


Aokigahara

by Aris



Series: Marvel One Shots [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Anxiety, Artist!Steve, Gen, Insomnia, Tony Angst, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony eats too much sugar, Tony really really adores Pepper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aris/pseuds/Aris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony opens a bottle of whiskey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aokigahara

The whole 'art' thing didn't really interest Tony, even if he did have a house full of it. It's a status thing, art, it lets people know he can afford it, own it, and still not care about it. He doesn't know a hell lot about artists or their famous paintings or what obscure political event influenced their work, but he does know a good artist when he sees it.

He's glad Steve's a good one.

Speaking of Steve... Tony looks around for his friend, the reason for him being at this event in the first place. _'Oh, please Tony, I need the publicity',_ well those damn photographers better be getting some killer shots of Steve's artwork 'cause Tony's sure as hell been standing by it for long enough, and there's only so long he can stare at a depiction of the Aokigahara forest before he starts thinking about going there himself. Besides, Steven said two hours four hours ago and Tony's near the crown-jewel 60th hour of consciousness and he can't even have any sugar because Pepper emptied his pockets before he left - there's nothing in the gallery, either, except flutes of champagne and some kind of pastry-things that look a bit too on the healthy side for Tony.

So, yeah. Tony's tired and Steve's gone somewhere and the reporter with the brown hair is edging closer and closer by the minute and Tony's not sure what he's going to say when she eventually pounces because, honestly? He's positive he's been repeating the same thing all night and Tony _wants_ Steve to get good publicity on his work, not be reduced to the same three words running on a train track in Tony's head.

He wishes Pepper had come.

"Hey, Tony." And Steve is finally there, all blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. There's a slight blush to the rise of his cheekbones and it doesn't seem like the quirk to his lips is going to fade anytime soon. If he didn't know any better, Tony would have said a certain artist had just got laid.

"Hey daddy-o, I thought you said this ended at 10? I've been staring at that wall for the past half hour, is is part of your exhibit?"

"Shut up Tony," Steve scowls and lightly hits his arm, "and it should have, but some big-shot from England arrived twenty minutes before closing and he's wants to buy, Tony, he wants to buy _my_ work." Steve almost claps his hands together in excitement and probably would have if it wasn't for the two or three cameras still trained on them, hoping for Tony Stark to do something tabloid-worthy. Too bad he's on his best behaviour tonight, because some of the girls swanning around in those modern-art dresses are invited to Tony's place anytime, dresses included.

"When's he gunna be out of here, then?" A sharp glance, "I mean, that's fucking great Steve. It really is. But I kind of already knew your work was amazing and JARVIS won't stop bugging me to get some rest and Pepper's going to be pissed I stayed late and-"

"Okay, okay," Steve cuts him off, his hand falling to Tony's wrist lightly "Okay. Odin just left, which is why I'm back here. You can go now Tony," Tony almost collapses in relief, _fucking art galleries_ "and get some sleep, seriously. You look like shit." There's something on his tongue like - _I was voted seventh most eligible bachelor by Heat magazine thank you for very much,_ but the fatigue is swooping in a little too fast and Steve's grip tightens as the cold wash of early morning (1am is morning, right?) air rushes over him - and when did he get outside? He hopes he didn't faint, or like, zone-out like that guy in that movie, what was it called? Because there were cameras, goddamn, and Tony needs to keep the whole public image thing spic and span or Pepper will have his neck. Or head. Both, if she's really mad.

"Is Pepper mad?"

"Just get in the car."

+++++++++++++++

"Tony you can't keep doing this." Pepper's angry. Pep's angry. Pep, Pep, Pep. Or whatever, what was her real name again?

"Sure I can," replies Tony easily, sticking the lollipop back in his mouth and humming happily around it before turning his attention back to the project on hand. Project 'Better Thingy' not as in, _thingy_ , but as in - machine-thing-that-makes-that-super-important element thingy. Because the last machine was kind of A Bad Thing and half his lab was in pieces before his whole house got bombed. So it didn't really matter but Project Better Thingy was an all-go unless he'd imagined those metal shards still playing around in his veins which was pretty plausible considering it was hour 72 and JARVIS was on mute. 

He was still dying. 

Nothing new there.

"Steve called, said you blanked out at the art show. You think that's something you can keep doing? What if you're talking to a reporter? What if you're doing a presentation? What then, Tony? Can you keep doing it then?"

Blanked out? Huh, so he didn't faint, just went a little zombie. No biggie. He can totally deal with that, totally. Zombie's cool. No problem with zombie. Little bit of zombie never hurt anyone. Pepper's staring at him and Tony can't concentrate on his work or meld the pipe while she's here because she hates it when he works over her and she hates it when he works full stop but Tony needs to do something before his anxiety can start creeping in the cracks in his day. 

"Sure," he reaches for the melder and Pepper sighs and he's really hoping he can get this done this afternoon so he can take Pepper out. She'd like that.

+++++++++++++++

Pepper left and Tony wishes he could be suprised but honestly - why would she wait around for him? Happy won't tell him where she went and now that JARVIS is unmuted a ringing ' 78 hours' sounds along with a neat list of functions that will be compromised when the sugar wears off and how long he can stay conscious with this amount of sleep.

Tony opens a bottle of whiskey.

"Sir, I must insist, alcohol at this stage would be highly detrimental given-"

"Don't make me mute you, JARVIS." warns Tony, forfeiting glasses in favour of drinking right from the bottle, ignoring the slight tremble to his hands. He's fine. He really is. If he's tired enough he can get a good nights sleep, or maybe a day's sleep, nightmare free. Or that's the theory. Excuse. Tony just doesn't want to scare Pepper again, even though they're not together anymore. Tony's not entirely sure what will happen if he calls out in his sleep and mark one-hundred and something comes swinging round for a visit, only to find there's no threat. He hasn't installed JARVIS in his latest models, though he really should get round to that (maybe after a few more drinks?) and it's hard to say what the suit would attack.

"Very well, sir. You should know Steven Rogers attempted to contact you while you were in the lab. Would you like me to call him?"

"Go crazy,"

"Very well, sir."

There's a familiar dialling tone and Tony tries to get down as much whiskey as he can before Steve picks up, revelling in the familiar burn as it passes down his throat. Feels just like home.

"Hello?"

Tony grabs up his phone from the couch and brings it up to his ear, carefully settling the open bottle between his legs so he doesn't knock it over when he forgets it's there. He always forgets things when he can't sleep.

"Hey daddy-o, d'you want something earlier?"

"Ah, Tony," the tone is quick and there's light shifting in the background, as if Steve's moving around "I just called to say that, you know - Odin guy, he bought a few paintings, called this morning." _Morning?_ Christ, what time was it?

"Which ones?" asked Tony, frowning as he remembered the one of the suicide forest, all dark greens and rope-yellows. He'd liked that one, in a morbid kind of way, he had been thinking of buying it. It generated a lot of jokes, that was for sure, Tony had spent the better part of last night coming up with them.

"Look - Tony I can't talk now, i -" he cuts off briefly and Tony can hear a quiet voice in the background, indistinguishable down the phone "That apprentice I was talking about last week, he's here now and I'm shipping out the paintings, it's kind of hectic, can I call you back?"

Tony hangs up.

It's not Steve's fault - he's got his own life. Painting, selling his work, galleries, other friends... an apprentice now, too, which Tony can't remember being told about but Steve probably did, because he's good like that, and Tony probably forgot, because he's bad like that. Dictionary definition of a bad friend. 

It's Tony's fault because he's bitter, because he works all day and all night and because he never told Pepper he's still dying and not even Steve knows and Tony doesn't want to die, not really. Not after last time. (it doesn't matter how many times he keeps telling himself that he tripped, _honest to god tripped_ , off that bridge. It was accident but Pepper still holds his arm when things are meant to be stressful and Steven has that careful look in his eyes and Tony _tripped,_ he could swear on it) Tony's just bitter because there's only a few things he has in his life, and Steve's one of them, and so is Pepper and Tony wishes he could uphold normal, balanced relationship's with them but -

Tony ducks his head down and stares at the bottle in his lad, hands pulling at his hair.

He should probably get back to the lab.

+++++++++++++++

_"Tony."_

And yeah, he's heard his name said like that a lot lately. It's that kind of pitiful, reprimanding tone that you hear from a worried mother when her kid does something stupid that could have gone really badly, and you can hear the _'oh my god what would I do without you'_ and the _'please never do that again'_ in it without anything ever being said past that one word. Tony never heard that from his mum, or his dad. The nanny didn't care either, as long as no one could see the bruises. Everything was okay.

The room is startling bright when Tony first opens his eyes and he's only mildly taken back that he's in hospital. It might be that his head feels fuzzy-to-hell and that the tube leading into his veins looks suspiciously familiar but it's not that surprising. At all.

He's mostly kind of pissed he's in hospital, really.

"Oh God, Tony you idiot, are you okay?" oh it's Pep, Pep, _Pepper_ and her makeup is streaked down her face and her eyes are that sad-red hue Tony doesn't like to think about. She grabs his hand and her skin is cold like the surface of a bottle and alcohol should be the last thing he's thinking about right now, with the way his stomach aches.

"What happened?"

His voice comes out ragged and surprisingly throaty and he resists the urge to touch the skin of neck, knowing there were will be nothing there now. It was all on the inside. 

"You drank too much, again. _Again._ "

Pepper started crying and it's all Tony can do to hold tight to her hand, to assure her he's there. Still breathing.

It's not a problem.

It isn't.


End file.
